Why I stepped in the puddle (idea)

This is going to be my first (and depending on how things go, might be the last) attempt at a “collaborative” node between me and borgette. The timing somehow just seems to fit….

First off, I have to preface this by saying that I like to walk. Maybe it harkens back to my days in the Marine Corps when I spent four years of my youth traipsing around various countryside’s as a grunt or maybe it’s just that as I got older I enjoy the silence.. Maybe it’s because there are no radio’s, no music or no talk shows trying to tell me what to think. Maybe it’s because I might’ve had one too many and I’m too old to be taking chances. Although I’ve taken many treks that cover the same steps, the thoughts that go through my head always seem to be different. I like that feeling.

Saint Patrick's Day proved to be no exception. My local watering hole was hosting its usual tent party and I left work sort of early to beat the amateurs and throw a few down with some friends. It was typical ColumbusMarch weather. Kinda cold but not freezing, a kind of steady damp interspersed with some snow flurries and pockets of rain that formed puddles in and around the streets that might serve to make driving an adventure. With that thought in mind, I felt it was best to leave my car at home and make my way to the festivities.

After about three or four hours of “socializing”, the bar was starting to get too crowded for my taste. People were leaning over me for drinks, the conversation was getting too loud and I began to feel like I was in a room full of strangers. I took that as my cue to head on home.

The walk is pretty short, maybe five or six blocks. The weather, while not severe, had left many puddles behind that had to be maneuvered. I managed to do that for a little while before I came across a big one that would have entailed my crossing the street.

Maybe it’s because I’m lazy or maybe the alcohol had taken its desired effect but instead of crossing the street, I decided to march right through the darn thing. Somehow it felt right.

When I got home, my feet were soaked and my shoes bore the stains. I got to thinking of days gone by and the lost pieces of my youth. There seemed to be something noble about a dirty pair of shoes, something along the lines that they had somehow done their job. In that brief time period, I had somehow felt transported back to the days when I was a kid and although my shoes will dry, the stains left behind serve as a reminder.

Not much of a story so far huh?

Yesterday was Sunday and it was my week to have borgette stay with me. After running some errands, getting lunch and unloading various packages from the car, borgette informed me that she was going to a “walk up/down”. That’s the term she uses when she wants to call on her friend that lives down the block. I usually look out the door as she makes her way down the block to make sure she gets there..

It had rained on and off yesterday and lo and behold, there was a huge puddle blocking her path. Rather than even think about negotiating her way around it, she plowed right through it without a second thought. I sorta smiled to myself as I recalled my little adventure from the other evening.

When she got back home, I asked her why she had decided to walk through the darn thing rather than around it. After the initial “I dunno’s” she came up with this explanation. I asked her to write it down and here, for your viewing and reading pleasure, is the text.

”Today, it was raining. Like always, it formed many puddles. On my way to Gracie’s, there was a particularly big one. Unlike most people, instead of going around it I stepped right in. I didn’t just walk through it, I jumped right in. Some people would ask why? Well, here are a couple reasons “.